


Pyat'

by Zisk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ballet, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, I just really enjoy it, I say one shot but I have a suspicion I'm going to end up adding on to this, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Tea Drinking, accidental date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-11-27 15:20:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18195914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zisk/pseuds/Zisk
Summary: Four times Natasha Romanov came into your life, and one time she decided to stay.(eta- everything after ch.1 is me adding on to it, because I can't not)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: The Russian and Japanese contained herein are from Google Translate, I apologize profusely for any mistakes.

The early spring air was crisp, the chill reddening your cheeks and the tip of your nose. You buried your face a little further into your scarf, picking your pace up a little as you trekked through the park. Cutting straight through the middle of it was the shortest route to your part-time job and you always enjoyed the peaceful walk.  
You looked up, watching the sky through the slowly-budding limbs of the trees, and allowed your mind to wander.  
The frisbee that hit you in the side of your head caught you off-guard, staggering you to the side and knocking you out of your thoughts. You turned towards the sound of raised voices, still somewhat dazed, and looked up to see a dog bounding full gallop towards you. You blinked, having just enough time to register that it looked like a yellow lab before the dog slammed into you, knocking you to the ground.  
“Lucky, no!” A voice wailed, rapidly drawing closer. The dog barked, sniffing you before wandering off.  
You lay on your back, staring up at the sky as you tried to collect your wits. There was a headache forming in your temples, localized where the frisbee had hit you. You’d probably have a nice bruise by the end of your shift. A few nice bruises, you amended, as you sat up and felt the soreness from your fall.  
“Lucky, come here!” The voice called. You turned your head, watching the yellow lab run to a blond man and drop the frisbee at his feet, tail wagging. A red-headed woman was standing near you, a look of concern on her face. Any wits you’d gathered deserted you as you looked up at her, silently thankful that you had a list of good excuses for the blush forming on your cheeks.  
“Are you alright?” She asked. You blinked a couple of times before nodding slowly, wincing as the movement worsened your growing headache. She frowned minutely, offering you a hand. You took it and she helped pull you to your feet, before starting to rummage through her jacket pockets.  
The blonde man stepped up next to her, holding tightly to a leash he’d clipped onto the dog.  
“I am so, so sorry!” The words tumbled out of him. “The wind caught the frisbee and I didn’t- Are you alright? Are you hurt?”  
The red-headed woman pulled an aspirin packet out of her coat, handing it to you. You accepted it, fishing your water bottle out of your bag.  
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” You pulled the water bottle out, popping the little pills before returning your attention to the pair of them. “Just, uhm, a little headache.”  
The red head snorted, the blonde looked mortified. “I am so, so sorry.” The dog, Lucky, nosed the hand he was holding the frisbee in. “Are you sure you’re okay?”  
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You rolled your shoulders, feeling a tug on the bruise forming along one of your shoulder blades. He still looked miserable and you sighed. “Hey, it’s alright. Things happen. It’s not like you were trying to hit me with the frisbee.” You gave him a lopsided smile and he relaxed a little.  
“Fair. Still, I feel like an ass.” He hesitated, sticking his free hand out towards you. “I’m Clint. This is Natasha. You already met Lucky.” He returned your lopsided smile and you chuckled, shaking his hand.  
“I’m (Y/N).” You supplied. Natasha held her hand out as well and you reached for it, intending to shake it. Instead, she grabbed the back of your hand and flipped it over, inspecting the scrapes on your palm. The tiny frown returned to her face.  
“It’s okay.” You wiggled your fingers. “I’m headed to work, I can grab the first aid kit and get cleaned up. They’re not that bad.” She released your hand, not looking convinced.  
“Do you…” Clint scuffed his foot. “Can we get you anything? Do you need an ice pack-“ He trailed off as you shook your head.  
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m okay.” You pulled your phone out, glancing at the clock. You’d barely have enough time to get cleaned up before the start of your shift. “I do have to go, though.”  
Clint nodded. “Are you late? I’d be happy to explain to your boss that it’s my fault.”  
You chuckled, weirdly touched by the offer. “I’m still good on time, but thank you. Truly. Ah- I hope you enjoy the rest of your afternoon.” You winced, the words sounding awkward as you said them.  
“I hope your shift is much quieter than your walk.” Natasha’s lips curled in an amused smile and you felt your blush darken a little as you chuckled.  
You walked the rest of the way to the coffee shop at a steady clip; not running, but certainly not going slowly enough to enjoy the scenery.  
You were sore, and your head still hurt, and you tried to ignore the way your stomach fluttered (just a little bit) at the thought of the red head. Natasha.  
The bell over the coffee shop door chimed as you stepped in and, after cleaning yourself up and telling the story to your co-workers, you fell right back into the pattern of your day.  
*  
The bell over the coffee shop door chimed, accompanied by a gust of wind that blew in another handful of leaves. Fall had settled over the city in force and, for as much as you loved the season, you’d almost reached your limit with sweeping leaves out of the shop. You weren’t sure what it was about the street layout, but you swore the wind blew straight in.  
You sighed under your breath, finishing wiping down the espresso machine. Trying to sweep them up now would be pointless, the late-morning rush would be hitting soon. You’d make Marci sweep afterwards, trading her for her most hated task of cleaning out the fridge.  
You surveyed the now-clean counter, smiling faintly. Adam had called you when he first opened the shop, asking you to come pick up some extra shifts between classes until he could get a full staff. You’d stayed after you’d graduated, keeping the hours part time, and now you worked your shifts around your usual job. Maybe it was weird, but you enjoyed it.  
A rustle at the register caught your attention and you turned, customer service smile automatically in place.  
The red head standing at the counter looked so familiar, but you couldn’t place why. She also looked beautiful, with her worn leather jacket and quizzical expression. You sternly squashed the thought, she was a customer.  
You stepped closer, wracking your brain. She blinked, tipping her head as she watched you.  
“I know you…” She trailed off, pausing and then grinning. “Oh! Clint hit you with a frisbee! Hi (Y/N).”  
It took your brain a moment to catch up, and you burst into laughter. “I thought you looked familiar. How are you, Natasha?”  
“I’m well. How are you? How did your hands heal up?” She leaned forward as you presented your hands, palm up, for inspection.  
“Just fine, they were barely scratched.” You blushed faintly at her scrutiny.  
“Good. I’ll tell Clint they’ve scarred, when I tell him I ran into you. He still feels terrible.” She gave you a playful smile and you couldn’t help chuckling.  
“He shouldn’t, accidents happen.”  
She shrugged. “But he does, and teasing him about it is fun.”  
You shook your head, smiling. “Fair. What can I get you?”  
She hummed for a moment, glancing over the menu on the wall behind you. “A medium cappuccino. Please.”  
You nodded, ringing it in. “For here or to go?”  
She hesitated for a second. “For here.” She gave you a small smile as you grabbed a cup, writing her order on it in grease pencil. “It’s the first day I’ve had time to catch up on reading, I’m hiding here where no one will think to look for me.”  
You snorted, giving her an amused smile as you accepted her credit card. “Your secret’s safe with me. What are you reading?”  
She pulled a book out of her bag, showing you a cover written entirely in Cyrillic. She smiled faintly at your expression. “He’s one of my favorite authors.” You nodded, squinting at the book and trying to memorize the cover. You’d have to look it up later.  
“I’m glad you finally get to read it.” You grinned at her, wanting to keep her talking but knowing the sound of the espresso machine would drown both of you out. “I’ll bring your cappuccino over to you.”  
She nodded, giving you a quick ‘thanks’ and made her way over to a table against the back wall. You took a little extra care with the drink, turning to take it to her as Marci stepped out of the back with a tray of fresh muffins. You blinked, an idea slowly percolating at the back of your brain.  
Before you could think better of it you snagged a muffin, Marci scowling good naturedly as you plucked it off the tray, and brought it over to Natasha with her coffee.  
She raised an eyebrow at you as you set them on the table. “One cappuccino and one muffin, on the house.” The eyebrow went a little higher. “It’s fresh out of the oven.”  
A slow smile brought up the ends of her lips. You flushed faintly. “Thank you. It smells amazing.”  
You beamed for a moment before you realized you didn’t know what else to say. “Enjoy!” You chirped, fleeing back to the relative safety of the counter.  
The rush started not long after, and by the time you had a chance to look up Natasha was gone.  
You sighed, a tiny smile on your face despite the faint disappointment you felt, and resolved to track down that book when you got home.  
*  
You pulled your coat a little tighter around your neck, scowling at Elise. The gesture was useless, the cold winter wind still wormed its way down your coat to chill you.  
“Remind me again why I agreed to this?” You grumbled.  
Elise gave you a sunny smile. “Because you’ve been working on this with me since the start, and because getting face time with Mr. Stark is an amazing opportunity for you.” Her smile grew more amused as she paused to think. “And because I want to see you try to deal with Mr. Stark.”  
You raised an eyebrow. “Ominous.” She shrugged, pulling open the door to Stark Tower and ushering you inside.  
Every few years, Tony Stark would outsource an audit of his company to an accounting firm. Not that he didn’t trust his accountants, not that they weren’t some of the best in the business, but he liked the added layer of being absolutely sure. This year, the job had fallen to your company and Elise had pulled you into it immediately. The added work load had meant you’d had to scale back your shifts at the coffee shop, but Adam had been understanding.  
You carefully shrugged out of your coat in the elevator, hanging it over your arm without setting down the briefcase you carried. You re-adjusted your suit and Elise watched you, amusement sparkling in her eyes.  
“What.” You grumbled, glancing at her.  
“You’re fidgeting.” Your glance turned to a glare. “Relax, this is going to be fine. We’ve worked with Mr. Stark before, and you know what you’re doing. This meeting is going to be smooth.”  
You snorted. “You’ve jinxed us, Ellie. The building’s going to catch fire or something now.”  
She rolled her eyes, composing herself the moment before the elevator doors opened. A young man in a suit escorted the two of you to a conference room where Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts were already waiting. Elise glanced back at you, giving you a reassuring smile, before stepping over the threshold and calling a friendly greeting.  
You swallowed past the nervous lump in your throat, following after her.  
The meeting was a blur. After the first few minutes you fell into what Elise laughingly called your ‘CPA android mode’ and she stepped back to allow you to present. You weren’t great talking in front of groups, especially not the heads of Stark Industries (of all places), but once you got into the groove of explaining your accounting the words flowed out of you like mathematically-based water.  
Or at least they did until an alarm started blaring. You froze mid-sentence, looking up at the ceiling in confusion.  
Mr. Stark leapt to his feet, the Iron Man suit materializing around him, and raced for a window that was quickly swinging open. It shut behind him with a resonating thump. Ms. Potts looked up, her eyes focusing on a small speaker.  
“JARVIS.” She called, voice level. “What’s going on?”  
“There has been a small assault on the penthouse level, Ms. Potts.” The voice from the speaker sounded almost apologetic. “It is being dealt with.” It paused for a moment. “Mr. Stark has requested that you take the accountants to a safe room, an escort is en route to you.”  
Ms. Potts sighed, closing her eyes. “Thank you, JARVIS.” She turned to the two of you. “I do apologize for this interruption.”  
“Does this happen often?” Elise asked, standing and shuffling papers back into briefcases. You moved to help her.  
“More often than I’d like.” She gave you a faint smile. “We’re quite safe in here, we’ll be even safer once we’ve moved.” She looked up as the door opened, smiling at the figure that entered. “You drew the short straw?”  
“It was my turn, Steve played escort last time.” A familiar voice replied, sounding amused.  
You blinked, turning slowly and locking eyes with Natasha. Locking eyes with Natasha in a skintight black leather bodysuit, pistol in-hand and a startled expression on her face.  
“(Y/N)?” She asked, incredulous.  
“Natasha?” You asked, just as stunned.  
Elise and Ms. Potts blinked, suddenly unsure.  
“You two know each other…?” Ms. Potts asked hesitatingly.  
“I… Clint hit her with a frisbee. She makes great cappuccinos.” Natasha blinked, recovering her footing.  
Ms. Potts looked more confused. “How did you get a cappuccino from our CPA?”  
Natasha’s comment about no one looking for her at the coffee shop resurfaced in your brain and you hurried to answer Ms. Potts. “I’m afraid that information is confidential.” Natasha snorted, giving you a soft, grateful smile.  
Ms. Potts sighed. “Okay. Irrelevant. Natasha, after you, please.”  
Natasha nodded, turning and sliding out the door. It clicked shut, only for her to re-open it a moment later. “Clear.” She hissed. “Follow me.”  
She lead the three of you down the hallway, slinking around corners with pistol at the ready. She moved silently, unfortunately the same could not be said for the rest of you. You tried to clatter quietly after her, only somewhat successfully.  
It wasn’t far to the safe room, and the journey was uneventful. She opened the door, checking the room, and ushered the three of you inside.  
“Are you headed back to the penthouse?” Ms. Potts asked, leaning back in one of the armchairs tucked in the room.  
Natasha tipped her head, listening to something, before shaking her head. “The penthouse is clear, but one of them got onto a lower floor. I’ll stay with the three of you until they’re subdued.”  
Ms. Potts nodded, tipping her head back and closing her eyes. “Thank you, Natasha. Elise, (Y/N), please make yourselves at home. We may be here for a little while. There’s water and juice in the fridge.”  
Elise looked at you, a mix of emotions flickering across her face, before she shrugged and settled into a chair.  
You looked at Natasha, your eyes flickering over the tension in her shoulders and the silent intensity with which she was watching the door, and made your way to a chair near Elise. It was more comfortable than you were expecting.  
The four of you were not there for as long as Ms. Potts had feared, maybe an hour at most. The all clear came through Natasha’s ear piece and she ushered the three of you out of the room.  
Ms. Potts turned to you and Elise. “I am so sorry for this. Can we reschedule for later in the week?”  
“Of course.” Elise smiled gently. “I’ll give your office a call tomorrow morning and work out another time.”  
“Perfect.” Ms. Potts nodded. “Thank you. Have a quiet rest of your day, ladies.”  
“You as well.” Elise dipped her head. The three of you nodded to each other and Ms. Potts turned to leave, pausing to glance back as Natasha didn’t mirror her. Ms. Potts raised an eyebrow.  
Natasha shrugged. “I’ll see them out.”  
Ms. Potts barely suppressed an amused smile, nodding and heading down the hallway. Natasha turned to the pair of you.  
“Follow me, please.” She directed, smiling faintly, and lead the way back to the elevator. You waited until the door had closed and it had started down before you took a small step closer to her.  
“I suddenly understand why you never have any time to read.” You said softly, giving her a teasing smile. She snorted, amused. “How was your book?”  
“Very good.” She shot you a look you couldn’t interpret. “I will have to come back and get a few more chapters in. Eventually.” She sighed.  
You shrugged. “We’ll be there when you get time.”  
The look she gave you this time was clearly surprised but pleased. The door opened before either of you could start a new topic, and you wished each other a quiet afternoon as you stepped out.  
You made your way out of the building quickly, trying to calm your nerves from both the attack and the look Natasha had given you while carefully ignoring the questioning look Elise kept directing your way.  
She at least had the good graces to wait until you were back in the car before grilling you.  
*  
The sun radiated across the blue sky and you squinted up at the light, readjusting the bag slung over your shoulder. You hurried up the sidewalk, stopping in front of a door that let out a wave of air-conditioned cold that cut through the oppressive summer heat as you opened it. You breathed a relieved sigh as you ducked into the dance studio, letting the door swing shut behind you.  
Elise had… ‘gently encouraged’ you to take up a creative hobby as a stress outlet, her concerns about the amount of time you spent at work was not un-founded, and the two of you had settled on dance. You’d decided to start with ballet, finding a little studio up the street from the coffee shop that taught adult classes, and after a few months of going you were finally starting to not completely suck.  
The thought made you chuckle as you changed in the back room, sliding on tights and tying on your shoes. Spend enough time at anything and you’d improve eventually. You enjoyed it, it was a good challenge and it helped clear your mind from the jumble of thoughts running through it.  
You stepped out of the back, walking up to the barre to start your pre-class warm ups and stretches. There were a handful of other women already there, doing the same thing, and you nodded to them before focusing on your breathing.  
Laughter jogged you back out of your concentration. Familiar laughter. You closed your eyes for a moment, already knowing who you’d see before you turned around.  
“(Y/N).” Natasha’s eyes sparkled with amusement.  
You couldn’t help smiling. “Natasha. How’ve you been?”  
“Good, busy.” She gave you an apologetic smile. “You?”  
“The same.” You gestured to the studio. “My boss thinks I work too much so she insisted I start dance classes to lower my stress.”  
Natasha snorted. “Is it working?”  
“So far.” You gave her a cheeky grin. She chuckled, stepping up to the barre next to you and stretching. It took you a second to remember to breathe.  
“I grew up dancing.” She said softly, after a long moment. “It’s been a little while since I practiced in a studio.”  
You nodded slowly. “It’s different, practicing with other people.”  
“It is.” She rested her ankle on the barre, leaning into it, and you had to focus on evening out your breath.  
Class started shortly after.  
It took a few minutes, but focusing on the movements distracted you from the fluttering in your stomach. You were careful, controlled, and only shared an amused smile with Natasha periodically. That you kept doing it seemed to entertain her.  
You made it most of the way through class before you had trouble. You couldn’t find your center of balance in the new move, wobbling back and forth and having to apply pressure to the barre to keep you upright. You huffed a sigh through your nose, trying again.  
A hand on your shoulder startled you and you dropped back down to flat feet, looking behind you.  
Natasha gave you an unsure smile. “Your balance is a little off, may I help?”  
You blinked, then nodded. “Thank you.” She smiled softly, placing her hand back on your shoulder and resting another one on your hip. You felt a faint blush starting. She gently pushed you into place, narrating how she was directing you, and you felt it when your balance aligned. She kept her hands on you, slightly warm through your clothes, until you’d correctly done the move a couple of times and she was sure you’d gotten it.  
“Thank you.” You turned back to her after she’d released you. “You said you’ve been dancing since you were a kid?”  
She nodded, almost looking shy. “It’s always good to revisit the basics, so you don’t get sloppy.”  
You tipped your head, nodding. “Sound advice.”  
She flushed.  
After class, the pair of you walked out together. The heat had not gotten any better, the sun still hung unobstructed in the sky.  
“Where are you headed?” Natasha asked softly.  
“Work.” You gave her a lopsided smile. “I picked up an extra shift at the coffee shop, we’ve got a couple people out sick.”  
She nodded slowly. “I... have a little bit, may I walk you?”  
You blinked in surprise. “I- Of course.” You both hesitated for a moment, her chuckle finally breaking the silent spell.  
“Which job are you going to?” She gave you a teasing grin and you laughed.  
“Coffee shop, this way.” You turned, leading the way down the sidewalk. The silence lingered between the two of you for a moment before you cleared your throat. “Have you always lived in New York?”  
She looked at you, surprised. “I- No, I moved here a couple years ago.”  
“Oh, cool. Where from?” She was giving you another look you weren’t quite sure of.  
“All over, I did a lot of travelling.” She hesitated. “I was born in Russia. You saw me at Stark Tower, did you not…” She trailed off, unsure how to phrase her question.  
Feeling as if you’d accidentally opened a box you weren’t supposed to, you shook your head. “The only things I know about you are that you have a friend named Clint, you read Russian books and like cappuccinos, and you work in security for Stark.” You tipped you head, amending. “And now that you were born in Russia. Which, speaking of Stark, I’m not here to judge or anything, the man’s a genius and you’ve obviously worked there a long time, but does he make the entire security team wear those bodysuits? Because that just seems… impractical?”  
She was silent for a long moment and you glanced at her, worried she was offended. Her hand was clasped over her mouth, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and at your look she burst into laughter.  
“Bozhe moy, no, no. I’m the only one that wears the bodysuit.” She chuckled.  
“Is that… Does human resources-“ You fell silent at her wave, perplexed but enjoying the musical quality to her laughter.  
“It’s my choice, I find it suits my range of motion better.” She gave you a bright, open smile. “How did you end up with so many jobs?”  
“In my defense, it’s only the two now. I went to school to be a CPA, I just like numbers, and while I was in school my friend Adam opened the coffee shop and needed extra hands. I like it enough that I just… haven’t left. It’s so different from my other job, it’s a nice change of pace.” You shrugged. Natasha was nodding.  
“That makes sense. Were you born here?”  
You shook your head. “We moved out here when I was a kid, I grew up here.” You hesitated for a moment. “What was it like growing up in Russia?”  
“Cold.” She answered immediately, giving you a tight smile. “Really though, it was much different than here.”  
“Do you like it here?” You asked gently.  
She tipped her head, thinking. “Yes. I- have family here, now, and a good job. It’s nice.”  
“Good.” You nodded, smiling at her. “Oh! I… read that book you brought in. I enjoyed it, but I think some of the nuance was lost on me.”  
She blinked, startled. “You… You did?”  
You shrugged, blushing faintly. “You said it was your favorite author, that’s pretty high praise.”  
The two of you were drawing closer to the coffee shop. Natasha stopped next to the first of the outdoor tables, looking at you with a bemused smile on her face.  
“Would you like to discuss it some time? Maybe I can help make sense of some of the nuance.” She offered.  
“I’d love that, thank you.” You grinned.  
“Okay.” She said softly, nodding. “We will figure it out.” She blinked, seeming to recover her footing. “I hope you have an uneventful shift.”  
“Thank you.” You laughed. “I hope the rest of your afternoon goes well. You know where to find me about the book.” You tipped your head, indicating the coffee shop, and she nodded.  
The bell over the door chimed as you walked in, your steps a little lighter than when you’d walked to class.  
*  
Outside the windows of the coffee shop, the rain fell in torrential sheets. Distant booms of thunder were occasionally audible, although the lightening wasn’t close enough to be seen. You smiled faintly, cleaning the counter and enjoying the soothing sounds. You’d always liked storms.  
There was only a small smattering of people in the café, leaning over computers or talking in quiet voices, all of them occasionally glancing up at the windows. Marci had retreated to the back, ostensibly to clean something but you knew she was secretly flirting with one of the bakers. They were cute together, you wished their shifts over-lapped more.  
You looked up as the bell over the door chimed, watching as the new customer roughly shook the water off their umbrella before bringing it inside the café. They turned to face you and you broke into a grin.  
“Natasha!” You called. “Dobryy den’!”  
She blinked before grinning back at you. “Spasibo! Vy govorite po-russki seychas?”  
“I have no idea what you just said!” You called, just as exuberantly as before. She laughed.  
“That answers my question. How is your shift?” She made her way to the counter.  
“Quiet. What are you doing out in this rain?” You raised an eyebrow. She blushed faintly, shrugging.  
“I wanted to come get a drink, and see what time you get off work.” She glanced down at the counter and back up at you. “See if you wanted to talk about that book.”  
You felt the blush start in your cheeks. “Ah- you have good timing, I’m off shift in about a half hour.” Her eyebrow went up a fraction. “I’d love to talk. Uhm, what can I get you in the meantime?”  
She hummed, thinking, as she pulled out her card. “A chai, please. Medium.”  
“Coming right up.” You swiped her card, handing it back to her and snagging a cup. “I’ll bring it over.”  
“Thank you.” She smiled, making her way over to slightly more isolated table. You brought her the chai, promising to come over once you were off shift.  
The last thirty minutes seemed to fly by. Before you quite realized it, Marci was gently pushing you into the back and commanding you to go clock out. You followed her instructions, pulling off your apron and trying to pull yourself into some semblance of order before you went back out front. You grabbed a tray, setting a couple muffins, an assortment of teas and a couple cups of hot water on it. Marci watched you, eyebrow raised.  
“Are you going to ring me up, or leave me hanging?” You asked her, teasingly. She snorted, running your card.  
“You almost look like you’re meeting someone.” She observed.  
You shrugged. “I do have friends, you know.”  
She hummed, raising an unconvinced eyebrow, and the both of you devolved into laughter.  
“So you say. Don’t think I won’t be watching from the counter. And judging.” She turned, shooting you a look over her shoulder.  
You snorted. “I would expect nothing less.”  
You made your way to Natasha’s table, smiling faintly. She had a book set out in front of her, next to her empty cup of chai, and she was already a solid way into it.  
“What’s this one about?” You asked, setting the plates and cups out on the table. She looked up, watching you.  
“What’s all this?” She asked softly as you dropped into the chair across from her.  
“I just got off work and I’m starving.” You pulled a muffin closer to you, tearing a piece off the top. “I’d feel weird eating in front of you, so I brought you one too.” You popped the piece of baked good in your mouth, chewing for a moment. “They’re good.” Your voice was slightly muffled as you talked around the food.  
She hid a small smile, tearing off a chunk of the other muffin. “I remember them fondly.”  
You beamed, trying to shove as much muffin into your mouth as you could while still looking respectable. You hadn’t realized how hungry you actually were. Natasha watched you inhale it, raising an eyebrow in amusement.  
“If you’re so famished, would you like to go get something to eat?” She asked quietly.  
You looked up at her, blinking in surprise. “I- Sure? I can grab to go cups for the tea.” You glanced at the downpour outside. “It’s still pretty terrible out.”  
She shrugged. “My umbrella is big enough for two.”  
You couldn’t help the flutter in your chest at the suggestion. You nodded, shuffling the tea and empty plates back onto the tray and retreating behind the counter to grab a pair of paper cups. Marci smirked at you.  
“Leaving so soon?” She purred. You shrugged as nonchalantly as you could.  
“Can’t discuss books if my stomach’s growling too loudly to hear each other.” You grinned.  
Marci hummed, glancing between you and Natasha. “She’s pretty.” You blushed. “Don’t fuck it up.”  
“Marci-“ She shook her head.  
“I remember her, she came through a couple times when you scaled back shifts. I wondered why she’d look around and order to go.”  
You felt your blush deepen but you rolled your eyes. “Correlation isn’t causation, she’s a busy lady.”  
“She’s also staring at you. Quit making her wait.”  
You huffed at Marci, grabbing the cups and spinning on your heel. You met Natasha at the door, stepping through as she held it open and waiting as she pulled her umbrella open. She accepted one of the cups and you stepped closer to her, following her out into the storm.  
“What do you like?” She asked softly and your heart stuttered for a moment before you realized she meant food.  
“Ah- There’s a nice sushi place not too far from here.” You offered. She tipped her head.  
“The one three blocks down?” She asked and you nodded. “Perfect, I love them.”  
The two of you walked in silence for a block and you desperately sought for something to say.  
“I love the rain.” You finally blurted out. “When it’s storming like this? I just think it’s so soothing.”  
Natasha glanced at you, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I love when it’s snowing. Those big, soft flakes that blanket everything and there’s no sound.”  
You nodded. “The snow is beautiful.”  
“I loved the winters in Russia for that.” She hesitated, then sighed softly. “Sometimes I would be the first out the door in the morning, walking into a world no one had touched.”  
“I feel like that would be a little harder to come by in New York.” You mused and she snorted. “Not impossible, though. We’ll have to go out this winter, I think I know a couple places.”  
She tipped her head. “Fair enough, I guess we will.”  
The silence this time was more companionable and broke as you opened the door to the sushi restaurant, the bell over the door jingling.  
“Konnichiwa!” A voice called from the other side of the small restaurant.  
“Konnichiwa, Matsuri-san!” Natasha called back, pausing to shake her umbrella off before she stepped inside.  
A man’s head popped up from behind the counter, breaking into a grin as he saw Natasha. “Ah, Jorogumo-san! Okaerinasai! Who is your friend?”  
“This is (Y/N), she works at the coffee shop up the street. (Y/N), this is Ken Matsuri, he owns this place.” She smiled at him. “How is your wife?”  
“More beautiful every day, the baby’s due in two months. You will come and meet her?” He tipped his head, giving Natasha a pointed look.  
She laughed. “Of course.”  
He nodded, satisfied. “Go, sit at your usual table. I will bring you things.”  
“Domo arigatogozaimashita!” She called, leading the way to a table in the back corner. She took the seat against the wall, leaning back and giving the empty restaurant a quick once-over. You raised an eyebrow at her as you sat down.  
“You know the owner?” You asked softly.  
“I helped him out awhile back, we’re friendly.” She shrugged.  
You nodded slowly, finally breaking into a quiet chuckle. She raised an eyebrow at you.  
“You might be the most interesting woman I’ve ever met.” You answered without thinking, freezing and looking up at her. You were both blushing. She laughed, shaking her head.  
“That is quite the compliment.”  
You both fell silent as Mr. Matsuri brought a tray of tea over, thanking him, waiting until he was out of earshot before turning back towards each other.  
“I have a question I’ve been wanting to ask you.” Natasha said softly. You tipped your head, waiting. “Did you not realize who I am when you saw me at Stark Tower, or do you not care?”  
You blinked, your mind blanking. “What do you mean?”  
Her eyes flickered over your face before she leaned back, surprised and amused. “You didn’t realize.”  
You blinked again, eyes widening as it suddenly clicked in your brain. A Russian immigrant in a black bodysuit responding to an attack on Stark Tower. Where the Avengers were housed.  
“Ah.” She sighed. “There it is.”  
“No.” You whispered. “Really?”  
She nodded silently.  
You sat there for a moment, stunned and processing, before you registered the sad tilt to her mouth. You disliked it immediately, and resolved to make it disappear. If she was reacting like that to you thinking of her as an Avenger…  
You reached out, picking up the tea pot and carefully filling both your cups. “That’s a hell of a career. I hope Stark offers good medical.” You looked up at her, raising a questioning eyebrow.  
She hesitated, startled, before her face split into a grin. “We have some of the best doctors, but keeping them from trying to run experiments while they’re patching you up can be a little…” She wiggled her hand.  
You snorted. “I can’t even imagine. How do you deal with over-working? I can’t imagine there’s much down time.” You wrinkled your nose, a thought occurring to you. “Or vacation time, for that matter.”  
She laughed, the sound warm and rich. “Why do you think I haven’t told anyone else about your coffee shop?”  
You tipped your head, grinning. “Touche.”  
Treating her work with the Avengers as just another job proved to be the right choice, she relaxed more as you talked and shared a handful of stories (including such gems as The Time She Covered Steve’s Room In Flags, Why Tony Won’t Go Near The Air Ducts Anymore, and a very sweet one from her childhood in Russia that you swore to never breathe a word of). In turn, you regaled her with some choice coffee shop shenanigans and a couple funny stories about your family (she was fascinated and you resolved to bring her to a family dinner at some point). Mr. Matsuri brought an array of dishes to your table and you both ate slowly, drawing your time together out.  
Time passes though, whether it’s wanted or not, and you finally found yourselves standing under the awning out front. Natasha turned to you, umbrella resting on her shoulder.  
“Which way do you live?” She asked softly.  
You gestured in the opposite direction from Stark Tower, smiling apologetically.  
“Ah.” She smiled in disappointment before a look of vague concern flickered on her face. “It’s still raining, I’d hate for you to get wet.”  
You pulled a second umbrella out of your bag, giving her a cheeky smile.  
“Milyy.” She snorted, giving you a teasing smile. “Were you just using my umbrella to get close to me, then?”  
You shrugged, feeling emboldened by the closeness of your conversation. “Can you blame me?”  
She paused for a moment, studying your face. “No.” She murmured, smiling faintly as she leaned forward. You met her part way, softly pressing your lips against hers. She was warm, some faint scent from her hair tickling your nose, and you reached up to cup her cheek. Her hand found the neck of your jacket, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss.  
Finally, she pulled back, just enough to whisper. “I had a good time tonight.”  
“So did I.” You whispered back.  
“We should do this again.”  
“I’d like that.”  
“You should call me.”  
“You should give me your number.”  
She laughed, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before pulling away from you and holding her hand out for your phone. You unlocked it and handed it over, watching Natasha’s graceful fingers dance over the screen as she texted herself.  
“There. Text me when you get home, so I know you made it alright.” She handed you back the phone and you nodded.  
“Deal, but you text me when you get home too.” She raised an eyebrow in amusement. “It’s a bit of a walk back to the tower, I worry about you.”  
She smiled softly. “You are very sweet, solnyshko.” You blushed and she leaned forward, kissing you one last time and brushing her fingers over your cheek. “I will.”  
“Okay. Good.” You stuttered. “I will too. Good- Good night.”  
“Good night.” She called, turning and walking off into the rain.  
You took a deep breath, composing yourself, before you slid your umbrella open and headed in the opposite direction.  
You couldn’t help the smile that stayed on your face the entire walk home.

***

You pushed the door open with your hip, catching it with your foot before it could hit the wall. The morning light filtered through the curtains, filling the room with a soft glow, and your eyes traced over the lump of blankets piled on the bed. A smile curled up the ends of your lips as you softly walked further into the room, setting the tray in your hands down on the bedside table.  
The pile of blankets grumbled.  
“I know.” You replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. “But it’s a reasonable hour and I made you breakfast.”  
There was a pause, followed by a quieter grumble. You started to form a retort but the words morphed into a squeak as Natasha tossed the blanket over you, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you further onto the bed. She curled up around you, nuzzling her face into your shoulder.  
You chuckled softly, closing your eyes and tangling your fingers in her hair.  
“Some times I think you sleep over just because you like how comfortable my bed is.” You mumbled softly.  
“Untrue.” She murmured. “You also make me breakfast.”  
You laughed, kissing the top of her head.  
“Mnye tak pa-veez-lo tee-bya fstrye-teet, solnyshko.” She whispered against your skin, sending a shiver down your back.  
“I know, daragaya.” You buried your nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. “Your coffee is getting cold.”  
She mumbled something you couldn’t make out but you felt her lips curve into a smile. One hand slipped lower, tugging at the waistband of your leggings.  
“We can make more coffee.” She murmured, shifting to press a kiss to your lips.  
You hummed, resting your other hand on her waist, and pulled her a little closer.  
The mornings you spent with Natasha were always your favorites.


	2. Chapter 2

The night was going perfectly.  
You’d taken Natasha to dinner at a little Italian place, small and intimate and with a fabulous wine selection. You’d gone to a nearby theatre, catching a travelling dance ensemble that was only in the city for the weekend. Now the pair of you were enjoying the leisurely walk back to your apartment, hands entwined and talking softly as you leaned into each other.  
Neither of you had to be anywhere tomorrow morning, and you were looking forward to waking up next to her.  
Nothing could have made it better.  
A thunderclap sounded and your heart sank. You and Natasha had just enough time to look at each other before the rain began to pour. Neither of you had thought to grab an umbrella, the day had been too nice, and you’d only worn a light jacket. You whipped the jacket off, holding it up over your heads to provide as much shelter from the rain as you could. The two of you raced for your apartment, laughing as you splashed through newly formed puddles.  
You closed your front door with a hollow thump, draping the now soaked jacket over a chair, and turned to Natasha with a joke on your lips. The words faded as you registered the now-visible bruise under her eye. She watched you, visibly confused by your change of expression.  
You stepped closer, gently cupping her face. “Who did this?”  
“What?” She asked.  
“The black eye, who was it?”  
“It was from the mission, some thug got the drop on me.” She sighed. “I should have used the waterproof makeup.”  
You brushed your thumb lightly over her cheek, frowning. “Can I get you an ice pack for it?”  
She shook her head. “It’s fine.”  
You bit back a retort, your frown deepening. “Are you sure?”  
She mumbled something softly in Russian, shaking her head and stepping away from you. “It’s fine. I’m going to change into dry clothes.” She retreated further into your apartment, grabbing her bag and shutting herself in the bathroom.  
You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment and trying to shake the feeling you had just done something wrong. You made your way into your room, peeling your wet clothes off and hanging them over your closet doors. Toweling yourself off with an old tshirt, you shrugged into something drier and wandered back into the living room. Natasha was still in the bathroom.  
You curled up on the couch, listening to the rain, and waited.  
After ten minutes, you wandered to the bathroom door, listening. There was no sound. Gently, you knocked.  
No answer.  
“Tasha?”  
“I’m almost done.”  
“Okay. You need anything?”  
“No.”  
Still not reassured, you returned to the couch. Natasha re-emerged a few minutes later in dry clothes, her damp hair hanging in her face. As she got closer you realized the bruise was gone.  
“Tasha?” You asked, confused. She wasn’t quite meeting your eyes. “Did you… cover up the bruise?”  
“Yes.” Her voice was soft. She settled on the other end of the couch, one leg tucked under herself.  
“Why?”  
She blinked, looking at you. “It was upsetting you.”  
“That doesn’t mean you need to hide it from me.” You turned toward her fully, brow furrowed. “I know you’re an Avenger, I know you get into fights, I just… I worry about you.”  
She raised an amused eyebrow. “You worry about me?”  
“Of course I do. I care about you.” You gave her an affectionate smile. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide things from me, even if they upset me. I-“ You hesitated, looking for the words. Finally, you sighed. “I want you to feel safe. Here. With me.”  
She watched you for a long moment, her face finally breaking into a soft smile. She moved closer to you and you shifted to meet her, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.  
“You’re sure…” She trailed off, sighing.  
“Yes.” You kissed her forehead. “Why don’t you take off that… incredibly well-blended makeup- Jesus Tasha where’d you learn to do that- and I’ll make us some hot chocolate?”  
She laughed, giving your cheek a quick peck before sliding off the couch. “Alright. Do you have whipped cream?”  
“I got the good stuff, just for you.” You winked. She grinned, heading back to the bathroom. “Seriously though, you need to show me how you covered that up! It’s like magic!” You called after her.  
She came back out while you were mixing the drinks together, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder.  
You glanced at her out of the corner of your eyes, a tiny smile creeping across your lips. “You’re beautiful.”  
She snorted. “Even with the bruise?”  
“Especially with the bruise.” You gently bumped your head against hers. “It has that unspoken bad-ass, ‘you should see the other guy’ look to it.”  
She chuckled softly.  
“Seriously, there’s something about ‘my girlfriend can beat you up’ that’s just…” You pinched your fingers together in front of you, kissing the air.  
Natasha laughed, pulling back and gently swatting you on the ass. “You dork.”  
You grinned at her over your shoulder. “Quite. Would you grab the whipped cream out of the fridge? It’s in the door.”  
She hummed, grabbing it and setting the container on the counter next to you. You grabbed a spoon, putting a solid dollop in each mug and sliding one of them to Natasha.  
She reached out, snaking a finger through the whipped cream and smudging it on your nose before she fled the kitchen, laughing.  
You blinked, processing, before chuckling. Delicately, you removed the cream from your nose, putting the container back in the fridge before stepping into the living room to fix Natasha with a stern look.  
She was curled up on the couch, legs tucked primly under her, grinning.  
“Aw.” Her tone was teasing. “Did you not like it? I thought the color brought out your eyes.”  
You rolled your eyes, breaking into a smile. “It was starting to drip.”  
“I was going to lick it off you.” She shrugged, watching you over the rim of her mug as she took a sip.  
“As much as I love you licking whipped cream off me, and please know that I do, there is nothing sexy about you licking my nose.” You laughed, joining her on the couch.  
“Are you sure?” She purred, sliding closer and leaning against you.  
“Pretty sure.” You wrapped an arm around her, taking a sip of your own drink. She hummed, giving you a teasing smile. “Do not lick my nose to prove a point.”  
“You just implied that licking your nose will prove my point.” She raised an eyebrow.  
You groaned. “Natasha, do not lick my nose.” She leaned closer. “Natasha.” She started to stretch towards your face, you leaned back. “Tasha.”  
Inches from you, she burst into laughter, curling back against your chest. “I wouldn’t lick your nose.”  
“Thank you.”  
“I will lick other parts of you, though.” She gave you a playful grin and you kissed the top of her head.  
“Why do you think I got so much whipped cream?” You wrapped your arm around her a little tighter, resting your nose in her hair. She leaned further into you, sighing happily.  
The rain beat out a steady tattoo against the world outside as you both sipped your drinks.


End file.
